


blank slate

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 00:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15158744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Chris and Darren meet again down the road.





	blank slate

Sometimes a blank slate is the only place to start. 

* 

Chris's hand is firmer in Darren's than it used to be. 

It's not what Darren expects. It's solid; Chris is solid, now. From the width of his shoulders to the shape of his jaw, he's not what Darren once new. 

His eyes are maybe the biggest shock, though; warm and open, like they somehow never were before. 

* 

It's a crowded beach from party with booze free flowing and music clashing from surround sound speakers and a band on stage. 

Darren said he might play a few tunes tonight, but he's in no hurry. The mic will still be there - Chris might not. 

"Alone?" He asks, shouting his words into the wind. 

Chris nods, holds up his hand. It takes Darren a second to realize what the empty finger must signify. 

When Chris points at him, Darren holds up his hand too, wiggles the finger that matters. 

Chris lifts an eyebrow, then nods toward the door. Darren has a sudden flashback to seventh grade, the first time a girl he liked asked him to a dance. 

Chris isn't asking him to dance, but he's still asking something. Just as confused and exhilarated as his pre-pubescent self, Darren follows. 

* 

It's quieter outside. 

They're not alone, but the most of the couples who have come out this far away from the open bar and the band haven't done so to seek out unsolicited companionship. There are paired of pockets of people, some deep in conversation and some one step beyond talking. 

"It's been so long," Chris says, and Darren can't help but want to spin some wonder at how genuinely excited Chris sounds. "How are you?" 

"Oh, you know." Darren half shrugs. "Auditions. Divorces. Getting by on that Hollywood lifestyle." 

"Divorces?" Chris asks, taking a sip of the drink he's still holding. "Multiple?" 

"Just the one," Darren corrects. "And by the bill I get from my lawyer, I better keep it that way."

"Hollywood lifestyle," Chris says. "Mine was amicable. I kept the dog, he kept the beach house. I pretend not to know he's living there with his new boyfriend. It's cute how the think the neighbors don't talk." 

"Ouch," Darren says. He wonders why Chris is still smiling. 

Then Chris downs the rest of his drink. "So, are we going to fuck or not?" 

* 

It's a dirty blowjob in a too-clean bathroom. 

There's music thumping too close for comfort but he's got a dick down his throat and fingers in his hair. 

He thought about this moment a lot. He'd think about it laying in bed at three in the morning, trapped by his own nostalgic night mares, wondering what might have been with the boy who used to look at him with s much want. 

Darren was a real asshole back then. Kissed all the boys and made them cry, then ran back to what felt safe. 

Is this absolution? Is it a punishment? 

It feels like a punishment. 

In his mind, Chris always made things different. He always imagined it - more. 

But with his eyes shut, this is just another night spent on his knees trying to drown out the hurt in his heart with pleasure in his dick. 

* 

He wipes his mouth and leans back, looks up expecting to see Chris just as satisfied as they always are. 

But Chris has both hands covering his face. "Oh my god," he says, and he's laughing a weird shaky laugh. "You swallowed." 

"That okay?" Darren asks. His throat kind of hurts. Maybe he won't take any turns at the mic after all. 

He doesn't feel quite like singing anyway. 

"I've heard, you know. All the rumors about you. I actually used to convince people you were just straight. I used to think that's what you'd want." 

Darren leans back and loses his balance in a controlled fall, letting his ass hit the ground with a dull thud that aches. He's not even hard anymore. 

"Thanks, man," Darren says. "Did me a solid." 

"Did I?" Chris asks. He holds his hands out to Darren. 

Darren reaches out and takes them, but he doesn't try to stand yet. He just holds them. Chris has nice hands. They're bigger than his own. "I don't know," Darren admits. "I think I'm having a mid-life crisis." 

"You're not even forty yet," Chris says. He's still letting Darren hold his hands. 

"Not too far off," Darren says. He can see a five o'clock shadow on Chris's jaw. "It's been a long fucking time, hasn't it?" 

"Yeah," Chris says, and tugs a bit. 

The realization that this encounter is drawing to a close pulls bands of emotion tight around Darren's chest. "Yeah," he repeats, uselessly. 

Chris stares at him. His eyes are so blue. "You want to go get some coffee?" 

Is it pity, is it a peace offering? Is it an invitation out of friendship or an extension to a one night stand? "How about a drink instead?" Darren asks. "Or we can just head back to yours." 

"No," Chris says, shaking his head. "Coffee. Tomorrow night." 

"You-" Darren stops. "I don't get this, man." 

Chris lets go of Darren's hands and reaches down to pull his jeans up. Darren watches him tuck his soft dick back in. "I don't either," he admits. "I just know I haven't stopped thinking about you for the past fifteen years, and this was weird." 

"I don't usually have complaints?" Darren says, feeling a spike of something defensive. 

"It wasn't a complaint," Chris says. His smile fades somewhat. "I should have started with coffee, not sex. I just got - excited."

Darren's eyes flick down and back up and he laughs, a real laugh. "I know. I was there for it." 

He doesn't even know what the fuck his emotions are doing. He's hitting the entire spectrum of feeling tonight. It's his own personal roller coaster. 

"Shut up," Chris says, shoving him a little. 

Darren reaches up and cups Chris's face, fingers along his jaw. He stares at Chris's mouth. He kissed those lips. He kissed them a lot. He barely remembers it, but that doesn't make it any less true. 

It's Chris that leans in. "Coffee," he says. "Tomorrow night." 

"I don't..." Darren starts, impulse only caring that far. "I don't know what this is." 

"We can just catch up," Chris says. "It's whatever you want." 

"What if I just want you to return the favor?" Darren asks. He knows he wants to say yes, but something in him can't help but always test the boundaries. He doesn't know when to leave well enough alone. He pushes until things break and then he gets mad at the shattered pieces of opportunities lost and people that have left. 

Chris stands firm, though. "After coffee." 

"You're stubborn," Darren says. 

"I learned it from you," Chris says. 

He sounds so utterly sincere. He is, Darren thinks, the same person he used to be. He's the same person who let Darren in, who gave Darren just enough space to fuck him up a bit before disappearing from his life. 

"Okay," Darren says. "Coffee. Tomorrow night." 

* 

Darren sits behind the wheel of his car, staring at his phone. 

There's no real reason for him to wait, but he doesn't even bother to start the engine until the new message makes his screen jump to life. 

He goes to his contacts and pulls up Chris's old number. He's never used it; not on this phone, not on his last, not on any of his last five phones. But he's transferred it over to every single new device, never knowing at which point it became obsolete. 

He taps twice to get to the screen he needs and then deletes the contact from his phone entirely. He lets out a breath as he watches it go, then he smiles and adds the new number in. 

Time for a fresh start.


End file.
